It is impossible to rise to freedom, from the midst of corruptions, without strong convulsions. They are the salutary crises of a serious disease. We are in want of a terrible political fever, to carry off our foul humors.

If we do not die for liberty, we shall soon have nothing left to do but weep for her.

Selfishness, not love, is the actuating motive of the gallant.

It is for the wise people who delight in humanity, praise justice, despise their flatterers, and respect the truth.

I was not always free from melancholy but even melancholy had its charms.

The feeble tremble before opinion, the foolish defy it, the wise judge it, the skillful direct it.

Ennui is the disease of hearts without feeling, and of minds without resources.

I have been reading Madame Roland's memoirs and have come to the conclusion that she was a very over-rated woman snobbish, vain, sentimental, envious - rather a German type. Her last days before her execution were spent in chronicling petty social snubs or triumphs of many years back. She was a democrat chiefly from envy of the noblesse.

People who know how to employ themselves, always find leisure moments, while those who do nothing are forever in a hurry.